Paperwork: My way of saying thank you for all those birthday wishes

Tuesday. July 1. Happy birthday to me.

Yes, today my age rolls into a higher number. Oh boy. My Facebook page is heating up with friends and family wanting me to be happy.

I give each one the blue thumbs-up so they know I got their birthday message. I worry about missing someone and feel some guilt that I am not sending back a personal note to each. Every name sparks a memory and reminds me how our worlds orbit each other. That’s the best birthday gift.

I should tell each one that, but I guess it’s Facebook etiquette now to post a thank you later. Or hey, why not write a column about it without turning this into a pity party.

I’ve told a few well-wishers that this is a day I try to tolerate. I can remember when every year was cake and candles and gifts. I looked forward to birthdays. I was eager to turn 16 and extremely impatient to be 21. All magic ages.

But that was yesterday that suddenly became today ... at least it feels that way. Time is a fast train ride when I look back to when I got on board in 1948. Now I wonder about the stops ahead. What’s that thing we like to say, “Hey, I had a good ride.”

Sorry. We agreed on no pity party. So let me blow out the inferno on my cake so I can dish out some thoughts on birthdays and aging and life. Be warned, though: old man talking here.

Two thoughts are circling in my head right now. They both seem appropriate on a birthday, a celebration of that day, a single human being becomes part of the universal us.

The first thought I pulled off a Facebook post that echoes a nagging question I dealt with for many years. What do you want to be when you grow up? I know the popular response to that question: “Grow up? Are you kidding? Who wants to grow up?”

There’s a lot of truth in that quip. I treasure the kid who still lives inside me. I talk with him more often now. So I embraced that Facebook post that stated: “I finally figured out what I want to be when I get older. ... Younger.”

Yeah, part of me would love to hop on the fast train to start the ride over. Be that kid – again. But be careful what you ask for, right? Being younger was not always a joy ride. It’s the good times I miss. The agility and energy and wonder about what’s to come. When life was more about what was coming, not what happened.

And that folds into the second thought that hit me earlier this week. We were finishing the final episodes of the latest season of “The Bear.” It wasn’t the first time I’d grabbed my nearby pen and paper to jot down a quote from this program.

The scene revolved around regrets in life ... things undone that still need to be done but get put off time and again. Then came the quote, words of wisdom for the moment: “There’s always a clock.” You can regret a lack of time or wasting time. You can wish for more time or try to make time. But ... “There’s always a clock.”

I’ve gone through a life measured by deadlines, anniversaries, due dates, bedtimes, supper times, class times, work schedules, ticks and tocks. No doubt that the train I’m still riding has scheduled stops ahead that I will deal with as they come. Because there’s always a clock. If you can hear it ticking, I guess that’s a good thing, right?

My calendar clock says today I am a year older, a countdown that restarts tomorrow. Meanwhile, my Facebook also is ticking. Friends continue wishing me a happy day. A grand day. A great day. A phenomenal day. So … why not?

There’s always a clock, but today is my time. I own the clock. So hand me another slice of that cake.

• Lonny Cain, retired managing editor of The Times in Ottawa, also was a reporter for The Herald-News in Joliet in the 1970s. His PaperWork email is lonnyjcain@gmail.com. Or mail the NewsTribune, 426 Second St., La Salle IL 61301.